Fear of Heights
by seriousblahblah
Summary: James decides, with his usual candor, that it would be a brilliant idea to try to teach Hermione broomstick flying and Quidditch. Hermione disagrees. Too bad James doesn't listen and disaster, flying and groin-crushing ensues. JamesHermione. Complete. Companion piece to Don't Overthink Things.


Thanks to everyone who read, faved/followed and reviewed _Don't Overthink Things_ , I know that story is still missing the epilogue to cap it off...but it was one of the most fun stories to write because of the support it received. Thank you again and this story is a oneshot but it fits into the early parts of Don't Overthink Things when they are still students at Hogwarts :) Also huge thank you to "Felix Felicis with a Twist" for betaing this, she is a much better writer than me and she's writing several Bill/Hermione and Charlie/Hermione stories which are amazing and wonderful reads you don't want to miss :-)

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 **Pair:** James/Hermione "Jamione"

 **Song:** Adventure of a Lifetime - Coldplay

 **Summary:** James decides, with his usual candor, that it would be a brilliant idea to try to teach Hermione Quidditch. Hermione disagrees. But James doesn't give up so easily and lectures her on Newton's First Law of Motion: things in motion try to stay in motion, or keep their velocity or something like that. JamesHermione. Complete. Companion piece to _Don't Overthink Things._

 ** _Warning:_** _humour, speed, groin-crushing, and general mischief_

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 ***~*~Fear of Heights~*~***

 ** _by siriusbarks_**

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 **~o~**

"Hermione, now the key to riding a broomstick is to hold on...for your dear life," James Potter said with a flicker of amusement in his hazel eyes as he raised his heavy eyebrows at her.

"Don't patronize me, James," Hermione threatened as she tightened the death grip she had on the broomstick as it hovered a few inches off the ground. "I know the obvious stuff. I know the theories, the techniques, and all the safety measures it's just...I don't know...I think I'm afraid of heights."

James laughed as he ruffled his messy jet-black hair back behind his ear, a habit he couldn't seem to break. He came around behind Hermione and put his hands on her shoulders to help steady them. "Not like that," he instructed. "Hermione, I can feel the tension in your back and neck. This is why you don't enjoy flying, you're too nervous."

Hermione shot him an angry glance before she exhaled loudly and brought the broomstick back to the ground.

"James, I am stressed," she mumbled. "But I don't know what to do. How am I going to get over my fears? It's not like I can get over my fear of heights in one day. I can't just force myself on the broom and then my fear will magically go away."

The tanned pureblood boy chuckled as the temptation to kiss her right then and now washed through him. He thought that it was adorable when Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired bookworm, would stress over things. Her face would flush in frustration and she would ramble on and on about whatever she was stressed about. James liked to tease his girlfriend, mostly because he knew that she could give it right back to him. He loved how she kept him on his toes.

Any girlfriend of his had to at least try to learn Quidditch, or get over their fears of flying. After all, Quidditch was his number 1 obsession. It was even the reason him and Hermione even met. He'd been hollering into the speakerphone giving play-by-play commentary on the game when she had bumped into him, clearly lost and confused. Especially over how you were not supposed to bump or move around during such critical moments in the game, like when the seeker was about to catch the snitch. On that day, as he stared at Hermione, the seeker had caught the snitch and he, failing in his role of commentator on the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin match, hadn't said a word because he was still looking at her. Even as the crowds cheered wildly around them.

It had been 2 months since then, and while they had progressed to holding hands and making out—she still was completely clueless, and more than a little paranoid, about broomstick flying.

Which is why he had taken her out on this brisk, early Sunday morning to the empty Quidditch pitch, to practice flying.

 _Too bad they really weren't progressing._

James took in a deep, long breath. "Hermione," he said as she climbed off the broom and attempted to give up. "C'mon, don't get off just yet. I really want to teach you."

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "Really, James? Do you really want to teach me? Or do you want to actually laugh smugly while I try and fail?" There was colour growing on her rosy cheeks in frustration, she clearly hated failing at anything.

James wrapped her in a large bear hug; she was so much tinier than him that his arms easily covered her. "C'mon, don't be like that. I wasn't laughing that much."

"You were chuckling," she accused.

"Well," he murmured into her hair as he held her tightly. "It is pretty funny that you were getting afraid of heights when you were only 2 feet off the ground."

"Aghh!" Hermione groaned in frustration and pushed him away. "You see, you were laughing!"

"I would consider it more chuckling than laughing, Hermione," he defended. "And I don't think you can blame me."

Hermione started to storm off the field at his comment. However, as she marched the long route across the grassy field back to the castle, he followed after her.

"Bollocks," James swore. As he watched her walk away James realized that he should've been more sensitive. He chased after her, flying on the broomstick easily—with natural ability—to catch up with her. "C'mon, I'm sorry," he pleaded as he flew alongside her on the broomstick while she continued marching. Her eyes stared straight ahead like he didn't exist or was some annoying fly she'd rather not pay any attention to.

"Hermione?" he spoke again and pleaded with puppy-dog hazel eyes. He swept the broomstick in front of her to block her path as he hovered a few feet off the ground.

"Move out of the way, James Potter," she commanded.

"I really want to teach you though, Hermione. I'm sorry if I was impatient."

Hermione crossed her arms and her eyes swept the field and looked anywhere except at him. "Yeah, well, I probably didn't want to learn anyways so..." She tried to navigate around him but he blocked her path again.

"Hermione..."

She muttered something under her breath and stared at him bewildered. "What do you want James?"

"I really want to teach you," he repeated, more sincerely than ever. He held out his hand. "Perhaps, it would be best, if we both rode on the same broomstick while I taught you?" He leaned back down the broomstick, clearing some space near the front where he clearly expected her to hop on.

"Not happening. I'm too tired and frustrated," she said with a sweep of her long, bushy hair before she started to walk off again. She'd probably spend the day reading and sulking in the library, however, because he knew Hermione and he knew that she hated to fail and give up., he continued to follow after her. That was why he was partly so determined to teach her, because he knew that she would hate that she didn't see it through one day. Her other friends, whoever they were Harry-or-Ron-something, hadn't bothered to teach her or include her in Quidditch, but he wasn't going to just let her get excluded from this part of his life.

"See, that is where you're wrong." He flew alongside her and reached out his hand again, this time grabbing her gently by the arm. "You give up when you're frustrated, because you've always been afraid of heights, but that's why you don't learn." He paused to give her a playful wink. "But trust me, I'll hold onto you, no matter how high we fly."

Hermione stared for the longest time at him. "Do you really mean that?" she asked after a tense moment.

"Hop on."

Hermione exhaled out a long breath and muttered _"I'm probably going to regret this,"_ before she climbed in front of him on the broomstick.

James felt a surge of power and thrill, as he wrapped his arms around her and the broomstick from the back. She was flush in front of him and it felt like the most exciting, perfect feeling in the world; to be on a broomstick with Hermione in his arms.

He chuckled again. "I won't let you go," he assured her as he kicked off from the ground.

He could feel Hermione's heart beating wildly as they ascended higher and higher in the air and they started to swirl around the school, but somehow she managed to stay still and calm.

"James," she whispered shakily, trying not to look down at the ground that was increasingly far away. "If you drop me, I will kill you."

"If I drop you, I will catch you," he teased with a smirk, as if she were some basketball or Quidditch ball he could catch with ease. "I'm good at catching things, I am a seeker after all...although you are a little bigger and fatter than a Golden Snitch!"

"James!" she scolded him. "I'm not kidding, don't joke around on this. I don't want to fall off, hold me closer it would make me feel safer." And to prove her point, she scooted closer back on the broomstick towards him. He grunted as he felt her arse flush and push right into his nether regions. It might be almost erotic if she hadn't smashed up against him with all the force of a bloody elephant—despite being quite thin.

He winced and tried to move himself back a bit, without falling off the broomstick himself, "I think you just crushed my reproductive organs, er, the Potter family jewels."

He couldn't see Hermione's face, with her facing the other way, but he felt sure she must've blushed and then she scooted forward a bit, giving his crotch some space.

"Better?" she mocked.

"Yes, thank you."

She shrugged her shoulders with a toss of her wild mane of hair. "Though I don't see how you can find it comfortable to sit on here for hours on end, this pointy little seat isn't exactly comfy."

James laughed. "True, but it's part of the difficulty of the game. If they put comfortable cushy little seats it wouldn't be a challenge to stay on the broom or knock someone off, would it? Quidditch can be a violent game."

"James," she asked unsteadily while her arms, he could tell, were straining with the deathly-tight grip she had on the front of the broom. "Have you ever knocked someone off their broom, on purpose, I mean?"

James shook his head and was tempted to ruffle up his messy black hair, despite the fact that they were now hovering at least 50 ft in the air and they might fall off if he tried to fix his hair. "What kind of question is that? Of course, it's part of the game of Quidditch to be a bit aggressive. But I haven't done it much, at least not on purpose, because I'm the seeker and my job is mostly to go after the snitch. Throwing people off their broom so they fall off hundreds of meter to their death is more of a Beater thing, not that the school let's anyone die before they reach the ground—"

Hermione did not appreciate his talk of people dying in Quidditch or falling hundreds of feet off their broomstick, her overactive brain was starting to imagine a whole lot of awful scenarios.

Hermione's head suddenly turned down as she looked at the ground far below them. The hoops of the Quidditch field appeared like tiny toothpicks in the distance. Even the castle of Hogwarts looked like a tiny little toy building. "That's it," she said quickly as the view started to turn her stomach. "I think I want to go down now.

"But Hermione, we barely begun your lesson and your fear of heights—" he said gallantly.

Hermione interrupted to screech at him. "James I don't want to fly any higher!"

He maneuvered the broom so that they were floating in a gentle circle above the pitch.

"Fine." He sighed and cradled her against his arms and chest. "Then let's just practice braking charms before we go down. I think that will be a good first lesson."

"Okay," she mumbled. He could tell from the sound that she was probably chewing her lip and doing her best to hold it together and be brave.

"Okay," he echoed as he held on to her tighter. "Now hold on still," he instructed.

Hermione's voice sounded panicked. "Why do I have to hold on still? What are you doing to do?"

James chuckled and nuzzled his nose against her ear. "Well, we can't practice the Braking Charm unless we go really fast first."

And before she could register what he just said, he tilted back the broom a little and set them off accelerating further and further into the sky. In a matter of seconds, they were reaching speeds of 70 miles per hour.

Hermione screeched and hollered at the top of her lungs as they set off flying at a tremendous, wind breaking speed. Hermione's hair whipped and flew back towards his face as they both flew as she screeched some more. James had an odd feeling that she was going to hex his arse once they were on land for speeding...but how else was he going to teach her the Braking Charm? This was how all the coaches did it.

"Now, Hermione," he said calmly into her ear as she continued to screech. "Just say 'Arresto Momentum' to make us stop. But hold on because there'll be some momentum to break, you know Newton's First Law of Motion: an object in motion will stay in motion," he said hoping to make her feel better by adding a bit of physics to their Quidditch lesson.

"I HATE YOU JAMES POTTER!" Hermione screamed as they flew even faster, but then she managed to say in a hoarse yell. " _ARRESTO MOMENTUM_ FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"

 **~o~**

Once they were back on land, Hermione was, somewhat predictably, mad at James.

He chased after her, still carrying his broomstick in hand. "What's wrong Hermione? You learned so much. You even got over your fear of heights!"

"What's wrong?" Hermione thundered and turned on him with her menacingly beautiful and almost fiery brown eyes. He'd never seen her look so mad and simultaneously beautiful; it was a spectacular combination. "What's wrong IS THAT THE BRAKING CHARM DIDN'T EVEN WORK!"

James guiltily looked away and tried not to smirk. "Well, I told you to say 'Arresto Momentum' or 'Braking Charm', not 'Arresto momentum-for-Merlin's-sake'. Somehow that's not Latin and doesn't work." Believe me, he thought. Many times in the throes of a Quidditch game, a player would swear while making a command to their broom and end up colliding into a wall or stand.

Hermione stared at him the longest time before finally throwing her arms up at him; her hair was still frizzy from flying at 70mph in the air and her legs were still shaking from thinking she was going to die and fall off the broom to plummet to her death. _"James Potter,"_ she hissed. "Never try to teach me Quidditch or flying again. Next date we have is at Hogsmeades and never anywhere a broomstick again!"

She marched off.

Well, that could work too, James thought and shrugged.

"Wait, Hermione!" he chased after her.

Next to Quidditch, his other number one interest was her. As he caught up with his girlfriend, he was already coming up with new ideas on how he could possibly get her on a broomstick again.

 **~o~**

 ** _The End...or maybe not? ;)_**

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Thanks for reading and be sure to check out my other James/Hermione story "Don't Overthink Things" which is longer and complete except for the very last chapter, which I've sort of been stuck on..oh well, it still reads as sort of finished despite that. =) Cheers and I might add a sequel to this later if somebody wants it and inspiration strikes, and thanks again to Felix for betaing this, it's much better now and I learned a lot from your sentence corrections and edits ~siriusbarks

 **Prompts:** [Speed drabble prompt: "See, that is where you're wrong."] [Charms Assignment #8 Task: Write about an incident where the braking charm failed.] [ A Through Z Challenge: B for broomsticks] [Chapter Titles Challenge: 41. Castles in the Air]


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